


Prosperity From Nothing

by FireEye



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29292921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: Harsh times call for improvisation.
Relationships: Balthier/Fran (Ivalice Alliance)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Prosperity From Nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/gifts).



She follows him through the city streets without a word. He finds a moderately priced inn for the night, and one of her ears twitches as he orders them a room as well as supper from the tavern downstairs.

Balthier takes the key and doesn’t so much as look at her, leaving her few other choices but to follow his lead. His behavior is suspect, as though he is hiding something, but at best he will tell her and at worst arguing in public avails them nothing.

And, once in the privacy of their room, he drapes himself across the small, plush couch and sighs dramatically. His head lolls towards her, and he begs her, “Whatever you’re going to say, say it. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“The coin with which you paid for this,” Fran remarks evenly, gesturing at the room. “I thought we had none.”

Balthier gives her a hopeless little shrug, and nothing more.

“...well?”

“We don’t. Not really.”

Fran stares. Balthier sits upright, a fleeting expression there and gone upon his face, but not before she sees it full for what it is: a wince.

“I... pawned the _Strahl_.”

“You...?”

She doesn’t ask him to repeat himself, because she’s heard him clearly. All the same, the surprise in her heart must show on her face, evident as the dawn.

“I already know how we’re going to get it back, I promise you that...” he almost trips over himself to say as much. “We just... need time. And little enough to get by.”

Fran sighs. Lifts her chin. She finds herself _angry_ with him. _Upset_ , that he didn’t consult her first. But the rising panic she senses rolling off him is more than her anger is even worth.

“And if this arrangement of yours does not work?”

“Then we’ll steal it, once more, and... continue on our merry way.”

Under the weight of her stare, Balthier flexes his hands, presses his knuckles to his mouth, and shakes his head. Finally reaches for her hand, and touches his mouth gently to her palm.

“Fran, I know... I... Trust me. Please.”

He asks, she knows, because right now, he does not trust himself.

“Always.”

And he can be a fool at times, but he is her fool.

**Author's Note:**

> ...i suspect theft. Please enjoy this thing. :)


End file.
